


An Aversion to Sleep

by Luna_Lalonde



Series: Strilonde Friendship [3]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, Pesterlog(s) (Homestuck), Secrets, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-15 05:23:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18492232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luna_Lalonde/pseuds/Luna_Lalonde
Summary: Both Rose Lalonde and Dave Strider have trouble sleeping, and find solace in each other's company.





	An Aversion to Sleep

I gaze forward, but there is nothing to meet my line of sight. It is black as pitch in this room. I refrain from making another glance at the digital clock next to me, as I’ve done so several times within the last minute, and there is simply no information left to be gained from taking such actions. It is 3:14 am and has been for no more than 60 seconds. I have watched each number tick slowly upward for the entire night, and quite frankly have surprised myself by how much repetition I am willing to endure, a stark contrast to my functioning during daylight hours. I produce a deep sigh, from a mouth that has become frustrated and tired, it’s patience has worn thin, just like every other feature of my body. I can hear every inch of my being reprimanding me for not sleeping, for not doing anything. I take no action to assuage this, much as I have for the past several hours.

Despite being completely surrounded by pitch, there are faint shapes I can make out, more by virtue of memorization of what my room looks like from this exact angle than by data gleaned from vision. I try to trace over each of these -a dresser, a desk, a face on a poster, an anthropomorphic-cephalopodian knit doll. The latter leers at my visage disquietingly, yet comfortingly at the same time.

I fail to resist the urge to look at the clock finally. 3:14. Still.

Before I flit my attention to some other randomly selected nearly unseeable object in my presence, the phone beside the clock buzzes and lights up. I am quite surprised, but not startled, by this. What could possibly be important or unusual enough to give me a notification at this hour? I reach for my phone, hesitating slightly, with dual reasoning. Firstly and practically, the bright light will surely be slightly uncomfortable to behold suddenly, and the uncomfortable comfort of the quiet darkness will be soundly disturbed. Secondly, and much less rationally, I am apprehensive to discover whatever this notification urges me to perceive. A 3am notification is not exactly an ease to a troubled mind.

Nevertheless, my fingers pluck the phone from the surface of the nightstand, and in a quick but not quite fluid motion, I turn it over in my hand, and press a button to turn the screen on. I am again surprised to see, it is from pesterchum. I press the notification and unlock the screen.

 

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] at 3:14 am --

TG: fuck  
TG: are you awake  
TG: i know your insomniac ass is awake your cthulhu doll doesnt let you sleep those beady eyes have a dns decree written all over them  
TG: dns is do not sleep  
TG: a message straight from the old fart gods or whatever  
TG: probably decoded in that dumb book you have  
TG: rose  
TG: hey answer

TT: Dave Strider it is 3 o’clock in the morning.  
TT: Of course I am awake but what on earth could possibly be the prerogative for one such as yourself for forsaking the sanctity of a good night’s rest for the ruinous action, sleep wise, of using one’s cell phone.  
TT: The blue light discourages good somniatic performance Dave.  
TT: Also cthulhu has kindly bestowed upon me his words, “Eh’luhu mabnma belo’ko’nmgo”, which I have decoded in that dumb book I have to mean “May this night, unlike others, contain the most peace filled slumber”.  
TT: Though since I have learned after years of listening to him, I have made the conscious effort to instead stay awake, in fear of what might happen.

TG: ok i dont care that youre freud and lovecraft’s lovechild all wrapped up in some 13 year old girl’s body in 2009 right now  
TG: i didnt message you to join a therapy session and subscribe to a sci-fi magazine  
TG: rose i cant sleep

TT: Obviously.

TG: no not obviously smart ass  
TG: i CANT sleep  
TG: like theres some shit going down here making it mad hard to get some happy shut eye and meet mr sandman in the land of snooze

TT: What seems to be preventing Mr. Sandman from making his auspicious entrance?  
TT: Have the crows on your windowsill gotten quite too rowdy?  
TT: Is there an impromptu parade occurring on the street below?  
TT: Are the self shot polaroids hanging from dainty strings round your room inspiring thoughts of rope based asphyxiation, like phantasms of your visage swaying in the Houston wind like hangmen in trees?

TG: holy fuck lalonde you are the only person on the face of the earth who could possibly make selfies sound horrifically morbid  
TG: other than like baby boomer editorial cartoonists  
TG: but no, its none of that dumb shit  
TG: you know what the fuck it is  
TG: its that fucking puppet

TT: And what exactly is the issue with the puppet tonight, specifically.

TG: the fact that its in here rose  
TG: i layed down ready for some sick zs just like every night  
TG: no puppet in sight  
TG: all clear on the puppet front  
TG: good to shut those peepers  
TG: definitely nothing fucked up and scary able to happen here  
TG: even locked my door just to make absolutely sure no beady eyed and shitty red lipped morons could even accidentally stumble in here  
TG: yet there he is  
TG: right on my beat machines  
TG: aside from being petrifyingly scary  
TG: its downright disrespectful

TT: And you have woken up at precisely 3:14 am, beheld his terrifying countenance, promptly freaked out, and messaged me.

TG: pretty much

TT: Alright. Let’s analyze what courses of action we have to take in this particular situation.  
TT: Firstly, are you willing to get out of bed?

TG: gonna need to work up to that

TT: Fair enough. Let’s start with a breathing exercise maybe?

TG: rose im a fucking zen master remember  
TG: and i know how to breath i dont have to practice that shit

TT: ok Mr. Zen Master, look at your beat machine again and tell me how slow and placid your heart rate is.

TG: no im not fucking doing that  
TG: just teach me how to breath or whatever

TT: Four seconds in, hold for four seconds, four seconds out, hold for four seconds. Repeat maybe five times.

TG: ok  
TG: im breathing real good

TT: Good. A few more times.  
TT: Do you feel any calmer?

TG: …  
TG: yeah actually  
TG: but i know that sock looking fuck is still over there

TT: My recommendation is that you take some normal deep breaths, then slowly look at it, so that you then may be able to remove it from the spot.

TG: fuCK i do not want to do that  
TG: but i sure as hell am not going back to sleep with it watching me  
TG: this is gonna be no problem  
TG: im the kungfu zen master remember  
TG: i do scarier shit than this with my eyes closed hanging upside down with nunchucks in my mouth  
TG: call me fucking puppet removal services because this dumb fucker is Out Of Here  
TG: like a baseball dude  
TG: steeeerike nine!  
TG: or whatever  
TG: ok im just gonna do it

TT: Good luck Dave.

TG: alright hes gone etc etc im exhausted fuck i locked the door again and everything  
TG: told bro to keep that shit to himself at dumb hours like this  
TG: not because i dont like cal  
TG: hes the coolest  
TG: its just that sleeping with him is kinda gay

TT: I’m proud of you.  
TT: I am also aware that Cal is the coolest.  
TT: And we would not want anyone to glean from this situation that you are in any way a homosexual.  
TT: I will make sure to inform a certain Egbert of these two points of information should he ask.

TG: yeah cool thanks

TT: I believe I may be able to sleep as well now. My trust in old man Cthulhu has just been regained a bit.  
TT: I’m willing to chance some shut-eye.

TG: yea sleep you weird goth  
TG: have sweet dreams of hot topic or tentacle porn or whatever  
TG: im sure your alien squid girlfriend is gonna be real when you wake up this time

TT: And I’m sure I regret even mentioning an alien squid girlfriend to one who handles that information like a gym class frisbee.  
TT: If I catch even a hint of that has gotten out to our friends, the crows won’t be the only murder in the Strider household.  
TT: Ok, that was a bit much, but I digress.

TG: haha youre insane but yea  
TG: not gonna tell

TT: Very well.  
TT: Goodnight Strider.

TG: night lalonde

\-- [TG] stopped pestering [TT] at 3:18am --

 

With yet another moment of hesitation, I press a button to return my screen to its original dark state. Light is sucked from the room like water into a sponge, and my vision goes black. I sigh, and with my breath goes out the knot that has remained in my chest for hours. My eyes meet the only feature of my newly nearly blind world, the clock, which reads five minutes past the last time I had checked. I feel a sense of satisfaction wash over me, and don’t preserve it for long enough to feel silly about such a trivial feat. I close my eyes and exhale again. Good night Dave Strider, you dumb-ass. I hope it is a pleasant night for you too.

Rain has started pattering against my window, and I thank some unknown being for giving me the ideal background noise to sleep. Maybe that being’s name is somewhere in my dumb book as well.


End file.
